


Marco (Ro)Bott

by jolimelon



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolimelon/pseuds/jolimelon
Summary: Jean Kirschtein is left alone and confused after the unexpected death of his darling fiance, Marco Bott. Refusing to leave the house or live his life, a robot Marco is sent to comfort the lonely Jean, and give him the closure that he desperately needs.(A very old work that I'm re-uploading. I no longer associate with snk but I put a lot of effort into this story in the past.)





	1. Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this in 2014/2015 but ended up deleting it. After going through my old files, I've decided to re-upload it the way it was, because I'd hate for those hours spent on it to go to waste. It's a strange story, I'll admit, but hopefully it's enjoyable regardless. Here are the original notes I had written for it:
> 
> Author's Note: Howdy do, everyone! It's been a long time since I've written anything so please be easy on me. This is my first time writing for Shingeki no Kyojin, and it's characters. Neither of which I claim to own! The story line for this fanfiction was inspired by the film Hal, though it has nothing to do with it's characters, and is only based on the basic plot line. If nothing else, I hope you enjoy reading this.
> 
> Trigger warning: There will be mentions of death, corpses, suicide, depression, violence, swearing, and other possibly sensitive topics.

Jean Kirschtein was greeted the same way each morning. Curled up into a tight ball of blankets, there was hardly a force in the world that could wake him. With the exception, naturally, of the faint and ever-so welcoming scent of breakfast cooking in the distance. It didn't matter if the world around him was shaking uncontrollably- Jean always awoke when his stomach was the one urging him to do so. 

Sitting up lazily, Jean made a sluggish attempt to tidy his bed-head but quickly gave it up. He'd deal with his looks later- after he filled his stomach. He slid his feet into a set of slippers resting beside the bed and began to walk towards the kitchen. He squinted his eyes slightly, vexed by the brightness of the house outside of his pleasantly dark bedroom. 

"Jean, good morning!" a sweet voice chimed from the kitchen, as if on the same cue each morning. Marco Bott, the energetic and affectionate fiancè of Jean, was always an early riser. As a basic rule of the house, the first awake was the one to make breakfast. So basically, Marco was in no competition for the role. "Did you sleep well?" 

"Uhn." Jean groaned in response, as per usual. He plopped down onto a chair, and rested his head on the kitchen table as he watched Marco preparing breakfast. 

Marco always cooked with such grace and ease that it left Jean in silent awe. He himself was not by any means a cook- in fact he was nearly certain that Marco woke up extra early just to be sure that Jean wouldn't be the one cooking the food. Not that Jean could complain about such a thing, since he could hardly cook more than instant rice and microwavable foods. 

Occasionally, Marco would turn away from the stove-top and turn to the counter, where he would quickly scribble down something into his black hard-covered notebook. It always peeked Jeans interest when he did so- as his writing seemed to be triggered by the most random, irrelevant moments. 

Jean stood from his seat at the table and quietly approached where Marco stood. He wrapped his arms loosely around Marcos waist and peered over his shoulder casually. 

"Whatcha writin'?" Jean mumbled quietly into Marcos ear, as he tightened his grip just slightly. 

Marco quickly shut his notebook and set his pen aside with a humble chuckle. "It's nothing. You wouldn't be interested." 

Jean ran his fingers along Marcos side playfully. "Lemme see it." 

"Nu-uh." Marco replied with an embarrassed smile. "Go sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

"Fiiiiiine." Jean whined in defeat, but quickly followed it with a laugh as he took his seat. "It smells really good." he added.

"Mhmmm." Marco hummed as he dished the meal neatly onto each plate, decorating and garnishing the portions as if he were a student being graded on his performance.

Setting the completed plates onto the table, Marco warbled a pleased "Ta-dah!" He smiled expectantly at Jean, who just stared blankly at the professional-looking presentation placed before him. 

"Dang, you know this is all just goin' to the same place, right?" Jean teased. 

"Well," Marco began as he took a seat across from Jean. "I wanted to try something different today. Besides, what kind of a fiance would I be if I just fed you plain old instant rice every morning?" he teased right back.

"Can't argue with that logic." Jean smirked. "Lets dig in, then." he stated, beginning to wolf down the meal without a seconds hesitation. 

The room was occupied by a moment's silence as the two boys ate quietly. The muteness was interrupted only by Marco's soft-spoken voice. "Hey, Jean?" 

"Huh?" Jean carelessly answered as he shoved another spoonful into his mouth. 

"You're said that you're going into the city today, right?" Marco asked with slight hesitance. His eyes fixated down on his lap nervously.

Jean nodded his head. "Yeah. Did you need something from there?" 

"No, no!" Marco quickly replied and locked eyes with Jean for an slight instant before looking to the side. "It's just.. The weather network said there was supposed to be a big storm this afternoon, so maybe you should try to go another time, if possible." 

It was only natural that Marco be concerned about Jean's driving. He wasn't exactly known for his great driving record, even during the summer season. He was careful enough while he had passengers, but on his own he was much more reckless and liked to drive fast and freely. 

Jean looked blankly at Marco in surprise before replying. "I can't, babe. I've gotta go meet with someone about work and today is the only day he's free." Noticing a worrisome frown creeping it's way onto Marcos face, Jean gave a gentle smile and perched down beside him. He pressed his forehead against his and closed his eyes. 

"Tell you what, I'll be super super careful while I'm driving today. Even if I have to go really slow, and end up getting there a bit late, okay?" Jean breathed tenderly into Marco's ear.

"But what if there are other reckless drivers out there?" Marco reminded him. 

"Then, I'll just have to leap frog 'em or something. You don't have to worry about me, Marco. Honest, I'm gonna be back home before you even know it." 

Marco looked at Jean stubbornly for a moment before finally sighing in defeat. "I guess it is important. Promise me that you'll be careful?" 

Jean grinned and pecked a small kiss on Marco's cheek. "I swear it." 

"Good." Marco attempted to sound in-authority. He quickly added in a more light-hearted tone, "You can do the dishes today, then." 

"Fiiiine." Jean let his voice drift off in mock-annoyance.

***

Articles of clothing and various personal objects flew across the bedroom floor as only the bottom half of Jean was visible from underneath the bed frame. 

"Ugh... Dammit!" he cursed under his breath as he resurfaced and quickly ran his fingers through his hair to fix it.

Marco poked his head into the room. "Is something wrong, Jean?" he asked, with a furrowed brow. 

Jean stood up quickly, brushing his hands off on his pant legs. "Yeah, I can't find my briefcase anywhere and I'm already running late."

"Oh, um," Marco thoughtfully placed a finger on his chin. "I think I remember seeing it somewhere, but I can't remember where." 

Jean sighed. "That's helpful." he huffed.

"Maybe it's a sign that you should stay home after all." Marco responded with a meek smile. 

"Marco." Jean retorted, staring the taller man down. "We've already gone through this. I'm going." 

"But it's really pouring ou-" 

"Marco! I don't have time for this!" Jean cut him off suddenly. 

Obviously caught by surprise at Jean's temper, Marco's smile faded slightly. Despite this, he still gave a weak attempt to keep looking optimistic. "Did you check the closet..? I think that's the last place I saw it."

"Why would it be there?" Jean hissed as he opened the closet doors and scanned it quickly. Low and behold, his briefcase sat on the top shelf. He snatched it and gave it's contents a brief scanning. "Ugh, it's all dirty and shit." 

"It looks fine to me, Jean. I could wipe it down quickly for you if you want." Marco suggested. 

"No time." Jean quickly cut in. He passed Marco in a rush, and took the car keys from the kitchen table. "Dammit." he cursed to himself as he glanced at the clock. "I'm really fuckin' late." 

Marco stood a few steps behind Jean. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Good luck with the meeting, and remember to drive carefully." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Jean waved his hand as he rushed to the front door and shoved his feet messily into his shoes. 

"I love you." Marco added sweetly. 

"Yeah, you too. See you later." Jean stated with haste as he slammed the door behind him. 

Marco sighed quietly to himself as he watched Jean's car skid out of the driveway and propel down the street.

***

After a particularly good meeting, Jean was in high spirits while driving home. He had tried to phone Marco before he began driving, but his mobile battery had been running low and completely shut down as he was in the middle of dialing their home phone number. 

_Well, whatever,_ Jean thought to himself as he began the car. _I'll just have to apologize to Marco about fighting this morning when I get home. But he'll be over it by now anyway, knowing him. It'll be the way it always is: I'll say I'm sorry, and he'll just smile and say "What for?" After that, I'll tell him about how work went and he'll get really excited for me like he always does. And I'll pretend like it's no big deal, even though he'll know that I'm lying._

With only these thoughts in mind, Jean speedily made his way home. The storm had passed through just as quickly as it had started, and the sun was beginning to set peacefully in the distance. The streets and the earth surrounding were still damp from the rain. A lot of small life, such as toads and worms, were stalking about the streets and Jean did his best to avoid running any of them over. Marco would probably be sad if I hurt them, after all. 

When he was only about a block away from his home, Jean began to notice an unusually large amount of people and cars swarming his street. He rolled his eyes casually, assuming that one of the neighbours was probably having some huge party that would end up keeping the entire neighbourhood awake until the late hours of the night. The peculiar thing though, was that the crowd seemed to be surrounding his house and driveway in particular. 

With his brows knit in confusion, Jean parked the car on the opposite side of the street. He bumped through a few people in the crowd until he arrived at the front. A few faint voices whispered, "Oh no." "That's him." "It's him, he's here."

An elder neighbour with tears staining her cheeks approached Jean, and held onto his hand. She looked up at him with large, glossy eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jean. It's so terrible that this happened. I'm so sorry for you." she mumbled. 

Jean snatched his hand away from the woman, who had only deepened his confusion. He ducked beneath the police "do not cross" caution tape and began to walk up his drive way towards the officers standing there. 

"'The fuck is goin' on here?" Jean asked them roughly. 

"You can't be here." The first officer, a tall and husky-looking man, said. 

"I think it's him." The second officer stated. He was a few inches taller than the other officer, but unlike him, he was lanky and thin. 

Growing impatient, Jean narrowed his eyes at the officers. "Where's Marco? Did something happen to him?" 

"It is him." The second officer whispered to the first, as if Jean wasn't standing there. 

The first officer gave a look to the second. "Are you Jean Kirschtien?" he asked, turning his attention back to Jean. 

Feeling a pang of worry grow in his chest, Jean nodded his head. "Where's Marco?" he asked again. 

"Um, well," the second officer struggled to speak, as a bead of sweat ran across his forehead. 

"Marco is dead." The first officer replied flatly. "I'm sorry." 

"H-Huh?" Jean licked his lips nervously. He could feel his throat closing off as he stared blankly at the men in front of him. "What's that even mean..? Marco, dead?" his lips curled into a nervous smile. "Come on.. Don't.." 

The officers exchanged a look once again. The second officer looked as if he didn't want to say much more, like stating the news was too much for him to bare. The first officer took a deep breath, and continued to speak. "It seems that he was struck by lightning while exiting the driveway. He probably died instantly." 

"Probably?" Jean breathed. "You don't even know? He just died here. By himself. And it was probably right away.. but it might not have been.." he spoke nonsensically to himself. 

The officers remained quiet. The crowd behind Jean was slowly beginning to dispart, though few remained to quietly gossip amongst themselves. 

"H..Huh.. So Marco is dead.." Jean's breath was short and feverish. "Marco.. Dead... No, that can't be." he stated as he shook his head. 

Jean quickly rushed passed the officers, who made no attempt to stop him. He burst through the front door, not bothering to close it behind him or to remove his shoes.

"Marco? Marco?" he called out as he searched the house. "Marco? Are you here?" 

He tore through each room in seconds, until finally he arrived at the bedroom, where Marco's black hard-covered notebook sat neatly on his side of the bed. At that moment, Jean could swear that his heart fell completely outside of his body. 

The sharp, burning sensation grew in his throat as piping tears began to stream down his cheeks. Jean walked sluggishly towards the bed, and gripped onto Marcos notebook. He held it tightly against his chest as his body slid down against the bed and he wept silently to himself. 

_Why? Why? Why? Why Marco of all people?_


	2. Silence

The next few weeks had felt like the longest weeks of Jean's life. Yet they had also felt like the same long day, or like an unbearable dream that Jean couldn't wake up from. He felt like he didn't care about anything anymore- but he also felt like he cared too much about everything at the same time. He was confused and in pain. 

Marco's funeral had been a long day for him. The room had felt uncomfortably hot and stuffy to him, but he seemed to be the only one feeling that way. Many people had approached Jean to give their condolences, but he didn't know whether to say "Thank you", or "I'm sorry." He just didn't know what the protocol was, because he didn't think he'd ever have to. So he would just stare blankly at each person and respond with an absent-minded "Yeah." 

Things became worse when Jean had over-heard some guests talking amongst themselves. One of them, an older man, had been talking as if he was the closest person in the world to Marco. He even went as far as saying, "It would have been so nice if Marco had found a nice girl, and had gotten married. I'm sure he would have, if he had been given the time." That particular phrase irked Jean, who didn't even think twice before twisting around and slugging the man across the chin. 

For causing such a commotion, Jean was removed from the funeral home, but he was too exasperated to care. He had only cared about Marco, and hated to socialize with people who hadn't known him the way he did. Another guest, who had been high school friends with both Jean and Marco, followed after Jean as he exited the building. 

Connie Springer, who had been a short and energetic class-clown, placed a hand on Jeans shoulder. "Hey man, I'm so sorry. This is so awful. I know you and Marco have always been so good for each other so uh, I mean, I don't know how to say this, but I'm here for you, Jean."

For some unexplainable reason, Connie's concern had managed to bring burning hot tears to Jeans eyes. He then proceeded to sob maniacally into Connie's shoulder as the two of them sat on a bench outside of the funeral home until Jean was all cried-out. After that, Jean and Connie parted ways, but not before Connie gave him one last pat on the back and enthusiastically told him to "Stay chipper!" Whatever that meant. 

That had been the last real social interaction that Jean had had with another person. Since then, he'd been hopelessly devoted to the warmth and comfort of the bed that he had, until recently, been sharing with the late Marco Bott. He avoided sleeping on Marco's side of the bed, in fear that it may lose his scent, which Jean had come to love so dearly. 

Occasionally, he would wake in the early morning and was almost certain that he could smell breakfast being cooked in the distance- and the soft warbling of Marco's voice calling out, "Good morning, Jean!" as he exited the dark bedroom. But that was no longer his reality. The daily routine which had become so normal to him was now gone. He could only smell the plain scent of the house around him as he exited his room, and was greeted by nothing and nobody. He had taken his darling Marco for granted so long ago, and he wanted nothing more than to just see him, or hold him tightly one last time. To hear his voice, or to taste his cooking. These were such luxuries that only the Jean of the past had been able to receive.

The current Jean, the depressed and lonely Jean, would never know these things. He was the one who had these things taken from him. Oh, what he would give to just live a day in the past. In his days of ignorance, bliss, and sparkling romance.

Jean had received few visitors during these weeks- his mother, co-workers, and a few friends, Connie Springer included. Though he did his best to re-assure each person that he was doing just fine, he knew that it was quite apparent that he wasn't. In the first place, he'd stopped caring about such mundane things like his clothing or hair, and hadn't done much to care for himself. If it weren't for the daily visits from people, then it would have been very likely that he'd simply forget to eat or bathe. 

He had stopped attending work completely, but had surprisingly not received a phone call to inform him that he'd been fired, which he had been expecting for some time. He knew that maybe one day he would want to go back to work, but currently, he did not care to. Not until he was down to his last cent.

It was a particularly sunny day when Jean's life completely turned around. Unlike his last day spent with Marco, there was no threat of a storm in the near future. On the contrary, it was a beautiful day and the sound of children playing outdoors could be heard as clear as crystal. Fuck off, would ya? Jean thought harshly to himself. Why? Why should there be people out there enjoying themselves, when Marco is fucking dead and I'm stuck here? 

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, rhythmic knocking at the door. Although he didn't feel much like socializing, he knew that it was evident to others that he was always home because he no longer left the house. He slumped off of the couch and approached the door at a snail's pace. 

"'The fuck do you wan---" Jean's greeting was cut off as he opened the door and realized that the person standing outside on the porch was none other then Marco Bott, who responded to the greeting with a heart-warming smile.

Jean's mouth hung open in shock. "M..Marco..? But.. how.. I saw your body.. So how..?" 

"My name is Model #0324111. I was sent to your home by the Survey Corpse to play the role of Marco Bott." The Robot Marco explained.

"Huu..Huh?" Jean mumbled.

In a blaze of confusion, Jean felt his head getting lighter and lighter. Until finally, his vision had blurred over and he could no longer see what was in front of him. 

*** 

"Jean, are you okay?" a familiar voice echoed through Jeans ears. It was warm, and inviting. A voice he hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in so long- yet it didn't seem right. This voice was one that he'd been so accustomed to, and yet it had left him so suddenly. 

That was it, It was Marco's voice! Jean quickly sat up before his eyes had even gotten the chance to open.

Sitting in front of him wearing an expression of surprise was who appeared to be Marco Bott. But... That couldn't be. Marco was dead.

"Jean?" The robot Marco repeated, staring blankly into his eyes. 

Jean pulled away from the robot, and glanced at his surroundings. He knew immediately from the furniture and bed beneath him that he was in the bedroom. Though the perspective seemed slightly different to him than usual. It suddenly occurred to him why.

"No!" Jean cried out. He jumped off of the bed and then stared at it in horror. "Th..That's Marco's side that you put me on. Don't touch it. Don't touch his spot!" he yelled. 

The robot Marco quickly obeyed Jean's orders and got off of the bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

Jean stared down the robot from head to toe. He looked like Marco in every single way, and remarkably so. Even the way he stood, and the expression he wore on his face. If Jean hadn't known any better, he could swear that Marco had come back to life. 

"Why are you here?" Jean asked, as he stood up. He just couldn't get used to seeing Marco's face again. 

"I told you. I was sent here by the Survey Corpse." The robot Marco informed him.

"I know you said that." Jean stated. "But why did they send you? They had no business doing that." 

The robot Marco cocked his head to the side in curiousity. "It seems that they do though, since I am here." 

Jean shook his head rapidly. "No. No this is wrong. This is wrong, and you need to go. You're fucking up my mind right now." 

"I was informed that the company you work for is none other than the Survey Corpse, is it not?" The robot Marco proceeded to talk. "So then you must have been aware that this company performs these kind of tasks."

Jean knew it was true, but he didn't want to admit it. The Survey Corpse was a very new and controversial company that used unique technologies in an attempt to re-animate the dead. The sole purpose was to give life to old corpses. Although the technology to revive the dead did not quite exist yet, they still had impressive and very realistic looking methods in order to create mechanical look a likes of deceased people. In short, they turned the corpses into robots.

It wasn't a very easy job. After all, the deceased being re-animated would first need to give their consent to be re-created after their demise. There was also no way to guarantee that those giving consent would pass away any time in the near future. So sometimes they were able to re-animate a corpse if the family members of the deceased were to give permission. This was very controversial, as some people did not think it was right to do so and wanted to pass laws against these actions. Although at the time, the Survey Corpse was not spoken about publicly, since they had only successfully re-animated a handful of corpses. 

"But.. But Marco never consented to this." Jean finally responded. "He would never-- I mean, he didn't like the kind of work I do." 

"It seems that his family members were the ones to sign off on it." The robot Marco stated flatly. "And so the Corpse made this project a top priority since it seems to be one that has prevented you from attending work yourself." 

Jean snorted. "So this is just a way to get me back to work, huh? Send a robot of my dead fiance to my house and think it'll get me back to work? Fuck that, and fuck you. Fuck all of you, seriously. You can leave." 

"If you want me to leave, then I will. But I'll be back tomorrow, because that is what I've been ordered to do." The robot Marco explained, before turning his back to Jean and heading out of the bedroom. 

It was the first time Jean had gotten a chance to look at the robot Marco's back. It was, of course, just as Marcos had looked. Except for a peculiar silver lining that looked like a sheet of metal running down the nape of his neck.

"Wait a minute," Jean grabbed his arm, but quickly let go of it. "Who ordered you to do that?" 

The robot Marco glanced back at Jean, and smiled briefly. "I'm afraid I've also been ordered to not discuss this topic." 

"This has gotta be some sort of harassment." Jean whined. "Don't come back. I just want to be alone." 

"People want to see you get better, Jean. I'll be coming back tomorrow. Goodbye for now." The robot Marco concluded, as he left the house without another word. 

"Fuck." Jean muttered under his breath.


	3. Screams

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning when Robot Marco had returned to the home of Jean Kirschtein, despite the latter having told him never to come back. After all, Robot Marco was not the real Marco. It was understandable that Jean would be slightly uncomfortable seeing him, but he had been programmed to visit him, and that is what he needed to do. 

Unexpectedly, Jean opened the door just seconds before Robot Marco began to knock. He looked at Jean with an expression of surprise, who just snarked at him in response. It was clear just by the paleness of Jean's skin, and the dark bags under his eyes that he hadn't been sleeping as well as he should.

"We're going out." Jean informed him, as he shut the door and walked passed him, towards the driveway and into his car.

Robot Marco followed after him without question. He watched the man's movements carefully, studying him like he was some unknown creature, and then promptly took a seat in the passengers seat of the car. 

Jean slapped on a pair of sunglasses, and fastened his seatbelt. He quickly backed the car out of the driveway without making much of an effort to look behind him. He did so in eerie silence, not even turning on the car radio.

"Have you been sleeping properly? You seem tired." Robot Marco finally spoke up.

"Fuck off." was Jeans only response as he continued to drive quietly.

This was followed by a few more empty moments of Jean just driving, and robot Marco sitting in the passengers seat without even the slightest clue of what was happening around him. 

"Where are we going?" Robot Marco asked, to break the silence. 

"If you talk to me one more time then I will not hesitate to drive us both into the lake, got it?" Jean snapped. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. The only sound to be heard was the wind whirling against the windows, and the rolling of the tires below them.

After arriving to their destination, Jean parked the car and finally looked properly at Robot Marco. "Get out." he hissed. 

Robot Marco nodded his head and exited the car. Jean did the same. Looking behind him, Robot Marco realized that they had arrived at the Survey Corpse headquarters. 

"What are we doing here, Jean?" Robot Marco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm here to fuck shit up, obviously." Jean laughed under his breath. "I'm not just gonna hang around with my dead fiance's corpse all day and pretend it's fucking normal. I'm beyond pissed about this shit." 

Jean began to walk away from the car, and Robot Marco quickly followed behind him. 

Entering the building, Jean knew exactly where he was headed and was determined to get there without stopping.

The head secretary of the building, Petra Ral, sat at the front desk and immediately turned pale upon seeing Jean and Robot Marco. "Good morning. It's been so long." 

Jean flashed her the middle finger as he proceeded passed the desk and made his way up the main stairs. Robot Marco was only a few steps behind him.

"Jean, you can't-" Petra attempted to stop him but quickly cut herself off, not knowing what to do to stop him.

The faces of everyone Jean came into contact with were all the same mixture of horror and amusement. He didn't stop to talk to a single person, and ignored anyone who attempted to speak to him first. 

Upon arriving at his destination, the office of Erwin Smith, Jean promptly thrust the doors open without bothering to knock first. He was surprised, however, to find that the person he was searching for was nowhere in sight. 

"Fuck." Jean cursed in frustration. "Fuck. Fuck!" he raised his voice and stomped his foot on the ground. 

Jean turned around and left without another word. He had been prepared to give up when he suddenly caught sight of Erwin Smith in the main hallway of the building, speaking with Petra Ral. 

"There you fucking are! You son of a bitch. You piece of shit!" Jean bellowed. 

Suddenly, all activity in the main hall had halted, and everybody stopped to stare at Jean and the dramatic performance he was putting on. 

"This is all because of you." Jean continued to speak, as he walked closer to him. "It's because of you that this literal walking corpse arrived at my doorstep and fucked my mind up." 

Erwin just stood quietly with a raised eyebrow. He sipped at his coffee, while staring at Jean as if he were talking to someone else. 

"Bitch, answer me!" Jean cried out, getting more heated by the second. "Do you not have any idea how badly this is messing with me?! Seeing my fiance like this after I fucking know that he died?!" 

"Jean, calm down please." Petra desperately interupted. "This is what this company does! Surely, you're aware of the work that you're involved in!" 

"Stay out of this! I never agree'd to ever have this done to my fiance! I never worked this job with the intentions of it happening to anybody in my life!" 

Erwin set his coffee cup on Petra's desk before finally speaking up. "Jean, I understand that you're angry right now, but you need to calm down before you say or do something that you'll regret." 

"Too little, too late." Jean huffed. "Working here. That's my fucking regret. Working this fucking sick little job where we mess with the natural order of life. That's what I regret because you're all sick pieces of shit who actually think that this is an okay thing to do!" 

"There's something that you need to understand, Jean, and it's that this was not your decision to make." Erwin stated flatly. "It was Marco's family that consented to the re-animation of his corpse, which brings us to present day, where we have successfully managed to give his family that wish." 

Jean stared at Erwin in disbelief. He wondered silently how anybody in the world could ever consent to such a thing. When he began his job, he had honestly never imagined that anybody he knew would ever become involved in the project- because he never imagined that anybody he knew would be sick enough to. He was wrong. 

"I understand that you don't like this Jean, but his family gave us the rights to do what we wanted with Marco's corpse. It was also their wish that Marco visit you, his fiance." Erwin proceeded to explain. "A family's wishes outweigh a finace's wishes, it seems."

"This is... This is really fucked up." Jean laughed in disbelief. "I'm supposed just bend over and take it all? That's what you're saying?" 

"More or less." Erwin concluded. "Now, if you'll excuse me." he added, as he casually walked passed Jean. 

"I... I quit..." Jean mumbled in defeat. He stared absent-mindedly at the ground. "This job.. Everything. I quit. I give up. This is so fucked up, man. This is so fucking wrong. And you people are all fucking fucked beyond belief. Every one of you who works here should fucking burn in hell for what you're doing. You think everything is all hunky-dory just 'cause you're giving a family their wishes for their relatives corpse but you have no fucking idea what he would have wanted. Marco wouldn't have wanted this. This is so fucked up. This is fucking me up." 

Erwin stopped walking for a brief second to glance back at Jean. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he continued up the stairs. 

"Fuck the dead, right?" Jean yelled with a desperate laugh. "Who fucking cares? Lets go piss on their graves, right? 'Cause who fucking cares what significance anyone ever had, yeah?"

Jean quickly turned around and stormed out of the building. Robot Marco was hot on his tracks. They both entered the car without a single word. Jean pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and began to sob loudly. 

"Why are you crying?" Robot Marco asked Jean, as if he hadn't witnessed anything that had just happened. 

''Why?" Jean repeated him, in between breaths. He didn't make any effort to look up. "Because you look so fucking much like Marco, that's why. But you're not him. You could never be him, even if you do wear his face."

***

Jean wasn't exactly surprised to find that his mother had visited him while he and Robot Marco had been gone. He was, however, surprised to find that the house looked like a completely different place. He found a small note sitting on the table:

_Jean-bo,_

_I'm glad to see that you're finally taking some time to go out for once. You could really use the fresh air, so please make sure you make a habit of this! I'm happy to see that you're finally making some changes in your life. You can power through this._

_I decided to take this time to do some cleaning for you. Frankly, this place has been a mess and really needed a mother's touch. I did the dishes, cleaned the counters and tables, and washed all of your laundry and bedsheets. Don't be afraid to call me if you need help with anything else._

_Love,_

_Your mother._

_P.S. I also brought some pre-made meals for you. They are in the fridge so please heat them up and eat them. Stay healthy!_

"What is that?" Robot Marco asked as he peered over Jean's shoulder. 

"A note.." Jean responded quietly. His face turned a sickly pale shade. "Did she say she washed the bedsheets..?" he asked in horror. 

Without warning, Jean suddenly dropped the note and rushed towards the bedroom. He pushed open the door and immediately felt his heart drop at the side of the cleanly made bed. 

"No, no, no!" he cried out, as he clutched the bedsheets on what had been Marcos side of the bed. "Dammit, god dammit.." he groaned. 

Robot Marco entered the room with a look of concern. "What's the matter?" 

"Marco... Marco's side... It doesn't smell like him anymore.." Jean sobbed. 

***

The remainder of the night was spent in awkward silence between the two. Robot Marco attempted to make a meal for Jean to eat, who flatly rejected the gesture. Jean then proceeded to hide away in his room for several hours. He was surprised to find that Robot Marco was still sitting in the kitchen when he later emerged from the bedroom so that he could use the restroom. 

"You're still here, huh?" Jean asked, with a yawn. It was clear to see that he had just awoken. 

"Yes," Robot Marco began. "I thought you might need the company." 

"Ah." Jean simply mumbled, as he closed the restroom door behind him. 

It was several minutes later, almost twenty to be precise, when Robot Marco had noticed that Jean had been gone for a particularly long time. 

"Jean?" Robot Marco called from the opposite side of the restroom door. "Are you okay?" 

After a moment of hesitation, Jean responded with a casual, "Yeah."

"You're taking awhile in there, so I wondered."

"Am I? My bad. I'm not doing anything." 

"So, can I come in?" 

"If you want, I guess." 

Robot Marco hesitantly opened the restroom door to see Jean staring intently at himself in the mirror. He had one hand resting on the sink below the mirror, and the other one held against his chest. 

"What are you doing?" Robot Marco asked curiously. 

"Painting a fucking picture." Jean replied sarcastically. "I'm just looking at myself." 

"Oh." Robot Marco nodded and then glanced at the hand held against Jean's chest. "What's in your hand?" 

Jean turned towards Robot Marco and opened his clentched fist to reveal a handful of sleeping pills. Robot Marco stared blankly at them. 

"Were you going to take all of these...?" Robot Marco asked hesitantly. 

"No," Jean replied. "I thought about it. Maybe I will. Probably not. I don't really know." 

Robot Marco didn't reply, so Jean continued to speak. "A lot of stuff has been going on. I'm not the strongest mentally, I guess. I don't think I can handle much more of this. I'm sorry I've been a dick to you. I know you're just a robot but- fuck, it really feels like I'm yelling at Marco when I yell at you. I hate that. I hate myself for ever yelling at him. I don't think I can kill myself over it, though. Dammit! I know he'd want me to be happy but that's a bit much to ask for, ya know? I'm a fucking mess." 

"I know," Robot Marco finally responded. "He would want you to be happy, but all in good time. I think he would understand that you need time to heal too. So please don't do anything to harm yourself, Jean." 

Jean laughed under his breath. He stuffed the handful of sleeping pills back into the container and set it on the shelf. "Is this why you were sent here? To just try and talk me out of doing something stupid?" 

"I suppose you could say that," Robot Marco responded, but quickly continued. "But Marco's family seemed very sad for you. They said that they'd like to give you the chance to hold and be with Marco one last time, because they'd like you to be able to continue living your life too. You're so young, after all. They'd like you to have the chance at life that Marco no longer has. That is what I think."

"No kidding." Jean stared blankly at the robot. "It's weird when you do that." 

"Do what?"

"Say 'Marco' instead of 'me.' It just seems so weird, coming out of his mouth, in his voice." Jean gave a small smirk.

"I'm sorry, would you prefer I didn't?" Robot Marco asked. 

"Nah, it's better this way." Jean replied as he exited the restroom. "Otherwise I might start to convince myself that you're actually him."


	4. Static

It was a dark and dreary Thursday morning. Dark clouds crept into the sky, threatening to storm at any given time. Jean stood at the kitchen counter, making himself a mug of coffee. He shifted towards the refrigerator, and searched around for the milk jug before realizing that it was completely empty. 

He'd been receiving less visitors lately, and he assumed that it was because people were giving up hope that he'd ever get better. That, or they thought that he'd suddenly gotten much better since the arrival of Robot Marco, who had only managed to conflict his emotions even more so. Regardless, Jean wasn't exactly looking forward to having to go out just to buy some milk for his coffee. 

As if on cue, Robot Marco entered the kitchen. "Is something wrong, Jean?" he asked, as he seemed to ask at least twenty times a day. 

"I have to go buy milk." Jean responded quickly.

"Oh, you're going out to get it?" Robot Marco asked in surprise. 

Jean nodded his head, and slid his feet messily into his shoes. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Wanna come?" 

"You want me to go with you?" 

"I didn't say that, I just asked if you wanted to. I'm just gonna leave if you don't answer me." Jean sighed. 

"Wait! I'll go with you." Robot Marco rushed after him. 

The two left the house immediately. Robot Marco only a few steps behind Jean, who made sure to shut and lock the door behind them. 

"It looks a bit stormy out." Robot Marco commented, before realizing that it probably wasn't the best topic of conversation, given recent events. 

"Yeah, it's supposed to storm later, I heard." Jean replied. "Hey, um..." his voice drifted off. 

"What is it?" 

"Well, you're a robot, right? But you're also kind of human on the outside. So what happens to you... during storms?" 

"I'm not really sure," Robot Marco answered. He hesitated before adding, "I guess I might attract lightning because of my insides." 

Jean felt a bit of a lump growing in his throat. He stopped walking. "Yeah? Maybe you should go back home then. I don't think I could handle Marco getting hit twice." 

"It's fine!" Robot Marco insisted. "It hasn't even started to rain yet, so I'm sure we'll be back before the storm even starts." 

"Lets hope so." Jean responded as he continued to walk forward.

They arrived shortly at a small convenience store only a few small streets away. Jean held the door open for Robot Marco, who smiled politely and thanked him for the gesture before entering the store with Jean only a few steps behind. 

"What kind of milk do you prefer, Jean?" Robot Marco asked in an attempt to make conversation.

"Huh? I don't know, the stuff in the blue bag, I guess." Jean answered awkwardly, as he walked towards the back of the small building. He quickly scanned the refrigerators for milk. 

Robot Marco looked curiously through the aisles as they passed through them. When they arrived to the back, a particular item caught his eye. "What about the milk in the brown bags? Is there a difference between them?" 

Jean glanced at Robot Marco as if he had grown another head. "It's chocolate milk, man." 

"Oh." Robot Marco hummed. 

Jean paused for a moment. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask this, but can you drink or eat anything?"

Robot Marco shook his head. "No, it would harm my insides, and then I would no longer function." he explained, and then tilted his head slightly. "Well, I think so, anyway." 

"You think so? You're not even sure?" 

"I don't really know much." Robot Marco smiled meekly. "Aside from basic speech and how to mimic Marco's movements." 

"Ah." Jean said flatly. He grabbed the bag of milk that he'd been searching for and then walked passed Robot Marco, who quickly turned to follow him. 

"You boys might want to buy an umbrella too," the young-looking blonde cashier joked. "It looks like it's just beginning to rain out there." 

"Shit, seriously?" Jean looked out of the glass doors just in time to witness large droplets of rain spitting from the sky and hitting the pavement brashly. 

Robot Marco looked at Jean nervously. "You really should get one." he commented. "It would be bad if you caught a cold, after all." 

Jean glanced at Robot Marco with wide eyes, unsure of how to respond to his concerned statement.

"Should I ring one up for you, then?" The cashier asked, with a gentle smile. "It only costs an extra dollar." 

"Yeah, sure." Jean answered, glancing back at the cashier. "Could I get two, though?" 

"Yes, no problem." the cashier quickly scanned the items through and handed them back to Jean, who handed her the payment in exact change. "Please have a safe trip home!" 

"Thank you." Robot Marco responded sweetly as he followed Jean out of the store. 

"Here." Jean mumbled as he offered an umbrella to Robot Marco, who graciously accepted it. 

"Thank you so much, Jean. I'm so happy." Robot Marco stated, as he opened the umbrella and held it above his head. 

Jean casually raised an eyebrow, as he opened his own and shielded his head with it. "Hey, it's just an umbrella. It's nothing." 

Robot Marco looked down, still wearing a smile. "But still, it's a very nice gesture. I know that you don't like me much, so I'm very glad. Thank you." 

"Hey now," Jean cut in. "Don't go saying something pitiful like that. I mean, as much as I don't want to admit it, you're still part of Marco." 

"Though only in appearance." Robot Marco reminded him. "I haven't been told much about Marco himself, although I'm supposed to act as him." 

All at once, before Jean could even respond, a large gust of wind blew against the two as they walked. Robot Marco squeeked in surprise, and Jean quickly grabbed onto his arm as a reflex. 

"Hey, maybe we should go take cover in that shed over there." Jean yelled over the rain. "Nobody uses it, and I don't think we'll make much progress getting home when we can barely see where we're walking." 

Robot Marco simply nodded his head to agree, and followed after Jean. 

With a bit of a struggle against the harsh winds, the two managed to enter the darkened shed. They closed their umbrellas and set them against the walls. 

"Do you see a light anywhere?" Jean asked, as he ran his hands along the walls to try and find a light switch. 

"No, I don't thin-" Robot Marco was cut off as he took a step forward and felt something brush against his face. He lifted his hand and felt the mysterious item hanging from the roof. Tugging on it lightly, he realized that it was a chain light-switch. A light suddenly emitted from the ceiling after he pulled on it. "I found it, Jean." 

"Oh, good. I didn't think there would be one." Jean commented. "It really did start to pour all of a sudden. Well, I'm sure nobody would mind us hanging out here until it calms down a bit." 

Robot Marco quietly took a seat on the floor and glanced around him. It was a rather dingy looking shed. It looked as if it had been abandoned for quite some time, although it only had a few small cobwebs in the upper corners of the walls. It was also completely bare inside, except for a small window on the right, and a wall of shelves on the left. A few title-less books sat on the shelf, and nothing else. 

Aside from the roaring thunder outside and the pattering of the rain on the roof above them, the two were in complete silence. Feeling slightly awkward about this, Jean took a seat beside Robot Marco on the floor. There wasn't much space to begin with, so he had to sit a bit closer then he would have liked. 

"Hey, um," Robot Marco suddenly spoke up. "Can I ask you something?" 

Jean nodded his head. "Sure, what's up?" 

"Well," Robot Marco pulled his knees in towards his chest and hugged them tightly. "What was it about Marco that you liked?" 

"Huh?" Jean was taken aback by the abrupt question. "Uh, well.." 

"I'm sorry if that was uncalled for. You don't have to answer that." Robot Marco added, as he looked at the ground. "I've just wondered to myself for awhile now, what kind of a person Marco was. I was created to become him, but the truth is that I don't know anything about him."

Jean remained quiet. He nervously scratched the back of his head. "Well," he sighed. "What do you want to know about him? I could tell you." 

"Really?" Robot Marco's eyes lit up. "If it's no bother to you then I have a lot to ask." 

Jean leaned his back against the shed wall and, for possibly the first time since meeting, made direct eye contact with Robot Marco. "Go ahead." 

Robot Marco tilted his head and pondered for a moment. "Um, well, let's see... How old was Marco?"

"Twenty-six," Jean answered. "We're the same age." 

"What sort of occupation did Marco have?" 

"Ah, well," Jean looked off into the distance. "He didn't have one. He used to, though." 

"Used to?" Robot Marco raised his eyebrows. "What happened?" 

Jean contemplated the best way to explain. "He worked at a daycare. He always loved children, and got along really well with them. But, um, he kind of had a weak heart and got pretty sick last winter and needed a lot of time at home to recover. When he was ready to go back to work, they said that he took too much time off and that they just thought it easier to replace him than to wait for him to come back. Harsh, right? We live in a town with a lot of people, but not a lot of jobs so y'know, there's always somebody else looking to take your job. He was really upset about it, too. He was looking for more work but I told him that he could use the time off, so he was kind of taking a break." 

"That's very sad to hear." Robot Marco commented. "Can I ask more?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

"This is about you this time," Robot Marco began. "I heard that you worked for the Survey Corpse, but you seemed very surprised when I arrived. What work did you do there, exactly?" 

Jean shifted around awkwardly. "Uh, well, I didn't work with the corpses or anything. Actually, I didn't even see a single one while working there. It's kind of complicated. I guess you could say I just did paper and computer work mostly. I spoke to people interested in donating their corpses after death and got them to sign up and sort out all of their information." 

"Did you ever speak to Marco about the possible donation of his corpse?" Robot Marco perked up with interest. 

"No," Jean quickly responded. "He thought it was a really shady place, and although he never said it aloud, I know he didn't like the work we did." 

Robot Marco remained quiet, so Jean continued to speak. "The day he died actually, I had a meeting with the guy I worked for. He talked about moving me to a different department, one where I could actually do some real mechanical work 'cause that's more my specialty. I remember thinking that Marco would be proud of that, because that's the original position I had wanted. One that focused more on advancing technologies, y'know? Something that could really help the world. I was really looking forward to telling him about it, so.." he bit his lip and paused for a second. ".. so that he could smile brightly at me, and congratulate me like I won a gold medal or somethin'. It sounds dumb but, he was real cute when he did things like that."

"It's not dumb." Robot Marco stated straight-forwardly. "It just shows how much you loved him if even those small things brought you joy." 

"Yeah, I guess so." Jean smiled weakly. 

A few moments of silence followed. The pattering of the rain was growing weaker and slower, although booms of thunder continued to roar through the sky. 

"Can I ask one more thing?" Robot Marco spoke quietly, as he glanced down at his fingers. "It's the last thing." 

Jean stared at the ceiling of the shed. "Sure." 

"Why were you so sad to lose the scent of Marco in your bedsheets, when his body was literally right there with you?" 

"It's hard to explain," Jean spoke in a low, tired voice. "Marco's scent meant Marco was there with me... That if I closed my eyes, and breathed his smell in, then I wouldn't be far from him. I could be taken back to a time when I could say good night to him and tell him that I loved him, and that he could say the same back." 

Robot Marco tilted his head. "But.. I could say those things to you, couldn't I? If it's Marco's voice, then--" 

Jean cut in. "But it's not Marco. That's the one thing you'll never had that he did. His smell. You can wear his face, and speak in his voice, but you're still not him. I loved him for who he was, and his scent was the one thing that could really remind me of being with him for real. So... So it felt like I was saying goodbye to the real Marco when his scent left me. Like every trace that he had when he was alive is now gone." 

Noticing a small trickle run down Jeans face, Robot Marco decided not to say anything more about Marco. Jean quickly rubbed his cheek, and looked the other way. 

"I'm sorry." Robot Marco mumbled, as he looked guiltily at the ground. 

"Nah, you were just curious." Jean attempted to give a smile. He sniffled quietly.

"No, not about that." Robot Marco continued. "I'm sorry that Marco died, and I'm sorry that I showed up. I'm so sorry." 

"Don't be sorry. I'm so sick of people being sorry." Jean muttered as he closed his eyes. He rubbed his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt. "Shit happens, and life goes on. I know that. It's just easier said than done. The fact that the world still rotates- that the sun still shines, and the thunder keeps roaring even without Marco here, I'm getting used to it." 

"So you're beginning to accept it?" Robot Marco asked in surprise. 

The thunder had settled down into a quiet and distant rumbling, and the rain was no more than a spit's amount. The sun would soon begin to emerge from the clouds, and shine down once again onto the earth. The storm was disappearing just as quickly as it had arrived.

"A little bit, I think." Jean opened his eyes, and glanced out of the crack in the doorway. The earth was looking brighter, even if just by a little.


	5. Saying Goodbye

Time began to pass by Jean more rapidily than it had for the past few weeks. The stormy season seemed to be over with, and along with it the clouds in Jeans own heart had been fading away. He was beginning to feel a certain sort of acceptance taking over control in his body, and he was grateful for it. 

However, a new problem was beginning to arise for Robot Marco, who was resting quietly on Jeans bed. Jean entered the room, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Hey, you're looking a bit pale. How do you feel?" 

Robot Marco had casually shrugged his shoulders. His skin was a mix between a light grey and white. His cheeks looked sunken in, and his eyes appeared to be very empty. "I don't really know how I feel, but I think that I would feel very cold right now if I could."

Jean and Robot Marco had gotten more used to each other's company over the recent days that they had spent together. Although Jean knew that Robot Marco was not truly his fiance, he still often found himself staring at him. He sometimes wished quietly to himself that it really was Marco with him, but he knew that it was impossible. 

It was earlier on in the day that Jean began to notice that Robot Marco was looking different than usual. When Jean asked him if something was wrong, Robot Marco ominously responded with, "I suppose that my time is approaching." He'd been resting in Jean's bed ever since. 

Looking at the ground in front of him, Jean tapped his fingers against his legs as he thought of what to say. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he finally asked. 

Robot Marco shook his head. "No. I am content this way." he replied. "If you would like, we could just continue to talk." 

"Yeah, sure." Jean nodded. "Can I ask you something, then?" 

"Yes, what is it?" 

"Do you know what's happening to you right now?" Jean asked. "I mean, with your body. A robot can't get sick, can it?" 

"I don't really know." Robot Marco gave a meek smile. "I think that I've used up all of my charge, which means my insides will stop running very soon."

Jean swallowed back. "Yeah? And then what'll happen?" 

"I will probably shut down, and then Marco's body will begin to decompose." Robot Marco answered quietly. "I think it's beginning to already." 

"Wait," Jean furrowed his eyebrows. "You'll.. die, basically?" 

Robot Marco glanced up hesitantly at Jean. "That is what I think." 

"Huh.." Jean looked pitifully into Robot Marco's eyes. He bit his lip. "I didn't know that that could happen. I mean.." 

"It's okay with me." Robot Marco closed his eyes. "I was created to cheer you up, Jean. And, well, I'm not sure if I've succeeded exactly, but you seem to smile a bit more. I'm very glad that you seem to be getting a bit better every day." 

Feeling slightly choked up, Jean wasn't sure of what to say. He just continued to stare blankly at Robot Marco, who opened his eyes and smiled up at Jean. "It would have been nice if I was able to meet Marco. He seemed very lovely. I'm glad that I could meet you, though." 

"You're seriously just gonna shut down?" Jean asked in desperation. "I mean.. You can't just re-charge, or something?" 

Robot Marco shook his head. "There would be no point in me returning. Marco's body needs to rest now, he's been so worn out." 

"Yeah, I guess that's true." Jean stared back at the ground in front of him. "It would be nice... knowing his body can finally be at ease." 

"I'm very sorry for using it for this long." Robot Marco added. "I'm very happy that he'll be able to rest, though." 

Jean just soundlessly nodded his head in agreeance. He couldn't understand why but he was feeling a tight tugging sensation in his chest. He took a few long breaths.

"I would like to do one more thing for you, though. If it's okay with you." Robot Marco spoke up. 

"Sure. What is it?" Jean looked back at him. 

Robot Marco clutched the blankets at his sides. "I would like to read you a part of Marco's journal."

Jean eyed Robot Marco in disbelief. "His journal..? But why?" 

"I think you need to hear what he has written, and in his voice, while I'm still here." Robot Marco explained. "I think it'll help you get a bit of closure."   
"I'm not sure." Jean replied carefully. "He didn't like me looking at it much." 

"It's okay, please trust me." Robot Marco stated with confidence. "He wrote a lot of things that he would have wanted you to know." 

With hesitance in his every step, Jean walked to the dresser located on the right side of the room. He grabbed the hard-covered black notebook that sat on top of it. He held it against his chest for a few seconds as he stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, Marco. You'll forgive me for this one, right? You don't mind, do you?" he spoke under his breath.   
Turning back around, Jean held the book out for Robot Marco to take. Graciously, he accepted the book and then opened it in search of a particular page. 

"Have you read it before?" Jean asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

Robot Marco nodded his head slowly. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to know more about him." 

Jean smiled weakly. "It's fine. He was very forgiving."

"I'll read now." Robot Marco stated with a pleasant smile. He held the book up, and began to recite a small passage in particular.

_"March twenty-third. The snow has finally melted, and I'm feeling a bit relieved. As it would seem, this winter hasn't been very kind to me, and although he would never say so to me, I know that things have been rough for Jean too. I hope that this spring can become a new start for the both of us, and that our marriage be the symbol of a fresh start. I'm feeling very optimistic."_

_"Jean has been working extra hard for the both of us since I fell ill and lost my job. He doesn't talk about work much, and I know he does so for my sake but I wish he wouldn't worry about me so much. The truth is that I do feel like I burden him a lot, but I do my best to make up for it. It's not enough, I realize, but I hope that I am helpful to him, if only a little."_

_"I haven't told Jean yet but I've been looking for a new job lately. There are hardly any openings in this town, so I've been looking at listings online in the city where there are many more options! I've found a few good ones, and I'm going to be applying to them today while Jean is out. I haven't told him because he told me that I should just take time off, but I feel bad doing that. I need to work my part too, and that's what I'll do! I think he'll be happy for me."_

Robot Marco took a pause. _"I really admire Jean for working so hard all the time, and soon I'll be able to show him the true extent of my gratefulness."_

The room was filled with a heart-wretching silence following the reading of Marco's journal. Jean, who had listened to each word intently, was now clutching the legs of his pants into his fists. He bit the side of his lip. "That's.. That's the kind of stuff he wrote about?" 

"No," Robot Marco answered. "This is one of the few journal entries he did write." 

"But he wrote in his book all the time." Jean stated.

Robot Marco flipped through the pages. "He wrote a lot of recipes down, it seems. There are also some short stories, and lists of things to do." 

Jean remained silent, so Robot Marco continued. "But when he did write journal entries, they were always about you. He didn't write much about himself." 

"Why would he.." Jean huffed sadly. "I mean.. I don't get it. He wrote about me? Even though I got angry easily, and fought over silly things?" 

"Jean works so hard. I admire Jean. Jean is so ambitious. I really love Jean." Robot Marco recited. "He wrote those kinds of things." 

"Dammit." Jean cursed quietly as he could feel hot tears burning in his eyes. 

"Did I make you upset with this? I thought it might make you feel better." Robot Marco uttered with a timid frown. 

Jean shook his head. "No.. It's just.. I wish I could talk to him about this, that's all. I wish I could have said goodbye, and had him say these things to me while he was still here." 

Robot Marco closed the notebook and set it against the pillow on the other side of the bed. The side that had belonged to Marco. "I'm sure he would have liked that, too." 

The next few moments were spent in silent between the two. Jean held his face in his hands, as he sat on the edge of the bed with his back hunched over. The only sound in the room to be heard was his quiet sniffling. 

Robot Marco watched him with a faint smile. "I think it's over for me, now. I'm feeling colder." 

Jean glanced up from his hands at the robot. He took a deep breath, before reaching his arm forward, and gently grabbing onto Robot Marco's hand. It felt positively frozen to the touch. Jean nearly jerked his hand back in shock, but managed to keep it still. 

"Was I useful to you, at least?" Robot Marco asked, as he gripped onto Jeans hand in return. 

Jean nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm really glad that you came here. I'm glad I got to meet you."

"Do you want to say goodbye?" Robot Marco asked. He donned a feeble smile on his face. "Not to me... but to Marco. This is your chance. You can say your goodbyes to him."

Jean inched closer to the robot. He gazed intently into his eyes. The glistening brown eyes that had belonged to his darling Marco. The eyes that he had fallen so hopelessly in love with all those years ago, and the eyes that he had missed staring lovingly into whenever he got the chance. 

"Marco, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't around that day, and I'm so sorry about fighting over something so silly." 

Robot Marco smiled sweetly. The angelic smile that Marco had worn when he greeted Jean in the morning, and the smile that Jean came home to every day after work. "What else?" 

"You... You were never a burden to me, Marco. I would never think that. I love you so much, and you were everything to me. The reason I wanted to work hard.. and keep going every day... It was because of you. Marco. You gave me that stength. I love you. I l...love you so much." 

The light in Robot Marcos eyes was fading slightly, but his smile grew widely. "Thank you, Jean."

Jean fell forward and embraced Marcos body tightly against his own. The body that he had held so many times before. The body that he had craved to touch day after day. Robot Marco raised his arms and held onto Jean, returning the intimate gesture.

"Marco... Marco.. I don't want you to go." Jean sobbed into his shoulder. "Not again.. Please." 

"It's okay, Jean." Robot Marco whispered quietly. "It's time for Marco to rest." 

"I'll always love you, M...Marco." Jean pressed the side of his face against Robot Marcos cold cheek. 

"I'll always love you too." Robot Marcos voice began to fade. "Forever.. and.. always." 

With that, Robot Marcos grip suddenly faded. His arms fell to his sides, and his body sunk limply onto the bed. Jean let go of him and sat back at the end of the bed, looking at his corpse. 

He was no longer Robot Marco. He was back to being the lifeless body of Marco Bott. Jean reached a hand forward, and closed Marco's eyes. Tears continued to stream down his face, and it felt like he had lost Marco all over again. 

"Goodnight, Marco." Jean whispered, as he pecked a small kiss onto the corpses forehead.

**Bonus: Saying I'm Sorry**

It had only been a few hours since the departure of Robot Marco. Jean had been unsure of who to call to take care of Marcos corpse, but he finally settled on phoning the Survey Corpse, who had sent Marco over in the first place. 

It was a very short amount of time until the Survey Corpse had arrived at his home, but to Jean it had felt like an eternity of waiting. He hadn't left Marcos side until he heard the loud knocking at the door. 

Before leaving to answer it, Jean softly brushed the back of his hand against Marcos cheek, knowing that it was more than likely his last chance to do so. He didn't say anything more to his corpse, because he had already said everything he had wanted to and then some. 

Jean exited the room, and walked to the front door. He opened the door to see that Erwin Smith and two other men had arrived. He was unfamiliar with the other two men, since they had worked in completely different departments than he had. One was a tall man with a shaggy blond haircut and facial hair, and the other was a very short man with straight black hair and a serious expression on his face. 

The two men walked passed Jean. "Where's the corpse?" The short man asked, as casually as a guest might ask where the restroom is. 

"He's in the bedroom." Jean explained, and then pointed to the opened door. 

The two men promptly headed to the bedroom, though Erwin stayed behind with Jean, who just stared blankly at him.

"Jean, I just wanted to apologize to you." Erwin stated flatly. "I know this must have worn you out." 

Jean shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. It was pretty exhausting." 

"I know we still have a lot of details to sort out at the Survey Corpse, but we appreciate you becoming a part of the experimental stage." 

"You're making me sound like some sort of lab rat. It was Marco's body you used, anyways." Jean huffed.

"I know," Erwin began in a serious tone. "I mean that we don't have a lot of technicalities sorted out. Your scenario was really unique. It made us realize a lot of things." 

"Huh? Like what?" Jean raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, to begin, we should have given you a warning about Robot Marco arriving at your home." Erwin said. "And, of course, we shouldn't have sent him to you without your consent. There's a lot we're still learning, and I just wanted you to know that your situation has helped us learn a lot." 

"I don't really know what I'm supposed to say." Jean leaned against the counter. 

Erwin paused for a moment. "It's fine. I'm very sorry about everything that has happened, Jean. Please know that you're free to come back to work if you'd like, but I'd understand if you don't want to. You'll still be receiving payment for the time you've taken off, since we've caused you quite some trouble." 

"Thanks." Jean mumbled. "I don't know what I want to do anymore, to be honest." 

"I understand. You need more time, Jean, and this time I think you need to do some healing on your own." Erwin replied with a gentle smile. 

Jean gave a small smile in return. "I appreciate it." 

The Survey Corpse passed through the house quickly, and took the corpse of Marco along with them. Jean watched them wheeling him away through the corner of his eye. 

"Well, Jean," Erwin said, as he began to walk away. "Call us again sometime, and we can talk about whether you'd like to come back to work." 

"Yeah, sure." Jean responded, as he watched Marcos corpse get wheeled down the driveway and pulled into the Survey Corpse car. Erwin walked away without another word. 

Within the following days, Marco's corpse was prepared with intricate care for his burial. Jean attended the ceremony, and remained quietly to himself the entire time. It was unusual to hold a burial that many weeks after his funeral, so much fewer people were present. Naturally, the man from the funeral who had been assaulted by Jean was nowhere in sight, so Jean was able to feel a bit more at ease. 

After the ceremony, Jean was heading to his car when he was suddenly approached by Connie Springer. "Hey, Jean. Man, it's been awhile." 

"Oh, hey." Jean greeted with a nod. "Hey, uh, I meant to talk with you actually." 

"Really? What about?" Connie asked with a raised brow. 

Jean smiled lightly. "I wanted to say thanks for helping me out. For visiting me and talking to me after I fucked up at Marco's funeral." 

Connie looked at Jean with wide-eyed shock. He quickly shifted his expression into a large grin. "Man, you know I'm here for you! That's what friends are for." 

"Yeah," Jean agreed. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate it. You're a good friend, Connie." 

"Thanks." Connie laughed. "You too, Jean." 

After Connie left, Jean got into his car and hesitated for a moment before driving away. He glanced at the graveyard one last time and smiled silently to himself. 

"I'll come visit you lots, Marco. I promise."


End file.
